


Let Our Walls Cave In

by The_Eldritch_IT_Gay



Series: Analog and Digital Eyes [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Established Relationship, Introspection, Other, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, mentions of skinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23710111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Eldritch_IT_Gay/pseuds/The_Eldritch_IT_Gay
Summary: Takes place somewhere between future chapters of Analog and Digital Eyes. A small kinda fluffy but sad piece.
Relationships: Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives)/Original Nonbinary Character(s)
Series: Analog and Digital Eyes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707640
Kudos: 7





	Let Our Walls Cave In

**Author's Note:**

> As this takes place sometime between future chapters of [Analog and Digital Eyes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22396051/chapters/53508964), you don't need to read it necessary to understand this, though I would probably recommend it. There's a slow burn in that fic but I wanted to write some small scenes of Tim and Safaa' together. Not beta'd, just a fun quick fic.
> 
> Title from "Heart" by Sleeping at Last. 
> 
> _Go ahead and laugh  
>  Even if it hurts  
> Go ahead and pull the pin  
> What if we could risk  
> Everything we have  
> And just let our walls cave in?_

Safaa’ was half curled up on the cot, asleep, atop of the blankets. Their work clothes were neatly folded on a makeshift table nearby, their niqab and jewelry resting on top. It wasn’t often Tim found them down here in the tunnels, a year ago they would have been scandalized at the thought of sleeping at the institute. A year ago Tim would have thought the Eye didn’t bother Safaa’. Things had changed, though, and more and more he found them down here. Elias couldn’t see down here. Down here their countless eyes were just tattoos.

As Tim sat on the edge of the cot next to them, he couldn’t help but look at the scars on their leg. The worm scars dotted around like a sick imitation of their freckles, the thick scars on their stump. During the Prentiss attack, he had thought they must have evacuated,  _ surely _ , as he hadn’t seen them at all. They had always been the most level-headed of the archives, they knew more about archiving and whatever paranormal things were happening than anyone else Tim knew. But they were aligned with the Eye, they  _ embodied  _ it; Watching and Knowing, risking and sacrificing so much to know a little more. He hadn’t known that then, though, couldn’t imagine Safaa’ doing anything other than evacuating and staying far away from the worms. Maybe just because the alternative had been too painful to think about until he had seen them rushed past him on a gurney in the aftermath.

Sometimes he wondered when he truly fell in love with Safaa’. He had flirted with them since day one, something they had allowed though he was always unsure if that was tolerance or reciprocated feelings. It had taken months before they agreed to meet up outside of work with him, Sasha and Martin. He could vividly remember that night, when their professional mask seemed to melt away just enough to see the brightness and excitement in their eyes when they spoke about archiving and databases and their experiences. Coming from anyone else he was sure he would have thought it was boring, but he had listened earnestly as they had spoken, asked questions. 

He wasn’t sure when what he felt turned from infatuation to something more tender, only that the panic he felt after the Prentiss attack--seeing them hurt, terrified that the unspeakable had happened--had thrown him into the realization that it happened.

Safaa’ stirred suddenly, their steady breathing quicking as they pulled their bandaged hand tight against their chest. Though it was covered, Tim could still see the outline of the bandages there, he could still remember Martin calling him and telling him that Safaa’ had been attacked. Safaa’ didn’t talk about what happened, didn’t elaborate on what had  _ stabbed  _ them. They had assured him they were fine, but they had only just been released from the hospital.

He wasn’t sure which memory, which wound, was plaguing them. Their hand he had seen, bloody and raw and  _ skinned _ , their whole arm shaking even as their voice had remained steady. It wasn’t life-threatening, a thought he had tried to cling to while he had bandaged it up as best he could and drove them to hospital. Even so, the fear was there along with the sickening knowledge that it was  _ just  _ what the Circus wanted. Using Safaa’ to get to him, marking them just to watch him  _ suffer _ . The Circus had taken so much from him already, the thought of losing Safaa’ to it as well--

“Tim?”

Safaa’’s voice was thick with sleep and in the dim light, he could see their eyes crack open ever so slightly. Their uninjured hand fumbled for his, clumsily lacing their fingers with his. Despite the clumsy movements, their hand was warm and steady, reassuring and anchoring.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“Mm. You were being loud.”

He knew what that meant by now, he knew how loud even silent rooms could be for them if there were people. If there were thoughts, even in places that nullified much of the Eye, they could hear. Whispers in the back of their mind that they could tune out the words of until it was nothing but buzzing static.

“I’ll try to use my indoor thinking,” Tim said, letting out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, “I’m sure Elias would chide us all for thinking too loud if he wasn’t such an asshole,”

He hated himself for thinking about Elias, about this place. Hated dwelling on how helpless and  _ trapped  _ he felt. About Jon invading his privacy at every turn, about the monsters stalking the place, about what happened to Sasha, about the worms and the Circus and  _ Elias  _ sitting and watching it all idly. Anger bubbled inside him, but as Safaa’ gently squeezed his hand he felt it subside, melt away into something softer, sadder.

“Are you okay, habibi?”

Sometimes he thinks he wouldn’t mind if they listened to the words, pulled the thoughts from his head. There was no static-y compulsion to their words but sometimes it would be easier if there were. As much as he hated the Eye he wouldn’t mind some otherworldly force creating coherent sentences from his racing thoughts.

But even with all their eyes, Safaa’ was too polite to do any of that. They had been tangled up in these forces long enough to resist. 

As Safaa’ gently tugged him closer, he didn’t resist. He curled up behind them, pressing his forehead to the nape of their neck and wrapping an arm around their waist, careful not to disturb their injured side. Safaa’ let out a sleepy, contented noise, lacing their fingers with Tim’s again. Warm, steady, anchoring.

He could feel the faint outline of the eyes on their palm, on their joints and the inside of their wrist. For now, they were just ink, unseeing and inanimate, they would stay like that all night. But Tim knew morning would eventually come, knew that Safaa’ would step out of the tunnels and the inked designs would become more. The whites would return, and if he stared for too long he would see them  _ blink _ . 

The thought made his chest tighten.

He had only ever known them like this, claimed by the Eye, never fighting its control. But he had seen the slow shift, the multiplying eyes, he had seen as their tattoos before  _ more _ , watched the eyes slowly grow whites. He had seen them in the dark archives, sitting silently, countless irises glowing and they  _ listened  _ to the statements. Sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder what they would be like away from this place. If they would smile more, if they would lose the tension they always carried.

Tim had always poked fun at Martin’s romantic nature and his pining, but around Safaa’, Tim felt he was hardly any better than Martin. Sitting here daydreaming about a life with them, far away from the Eye, from the Circus. Imagining a life where they could sleep in on weekdays and spend their days doing whatever they wanted without having to worry about work or monsters.

“Faa’... we could… we could run away. Together. Quit. Leave this all behind. The Eyes, the Institute. We could-- we could live, somewhere, together,” 

Tim stumbled over the words, nervousness making it hard to string together his thoughts. Part of him desperately wished they would just  _ Know _ , pick up on his nervousness and read his thoughts, see the tenderness and love of that idealistic future. He wanted to share the images

They didn’t though, Safaa’ stayed silent and it took Tim a few moments to realize they had fallen asleep. Sighing quietly, he let his own eyes closed. For now, this temporary respite from the Eye, just for a night, was enough. 


End file.
